


Well Visit

by ObserveroftheUniverse (kyasurin_chan)



Category: The Avengers (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyasurin_chan/pseuds/ObserveroftheUniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during The Gravediggers. In which Steed and Emma have a bit of fun with that nurses' uniform. (Written for Porn Battle XV.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well Visit

She never quite understood what it was about men and nurses’ uniforms, but not even Steed was immune to whatever allure it held. He had stared at her - more than usual - throughout the day, and suggested, several times, that they sneak away so that she could ‘examine’ him. Unfortunately hospital policy and surprisingly - bordering on suspicious - alert staff had foiled those plans.

Still, Emma thought Steed was joking when he remarked about having to sneak in through the window later that evening. Yet, just after she’s taken down her hair and removed her stockings, preparing to relax in something more comfortable before turning in for the evening, there comes a gentle tapping at her window. And, sure enough, there stands Steed, grinning and tipping his bowler at her.

She shakes her head. It’s utterly ridiculous - and she’s no idea how he’s managed to climb up to her second story room - but also a bit exciting. She crosses the room, opens the window, and helps him inside. 

“Mr. Steed, you shouldn’t be here,” She whispers, mock-severity in her tone, negated, of course, by the fact that she is already pulling him further into the room, toward the bed. “You’ll get me the sack.” 

“And here I was thinking I was going to get you into the sack.”

Emma shakes her head and chuckles, just before his mouth captures hers. They fall into each other easily, tongues meeting and breaths mingling.

“Seriously, Steed, we’ll have to be quiet,” she warns against his lips. 

“Alright,” He nods, hands already roaming distractingly over her body. “Shouldn’t you be checking me for injuries?” 

Emma hums in agreement, unbuttons his jacket and shirt, pushing them over his shoulders until he shrugs them off and her hands can run over his chest and abdomen unobstructed. Her fingertips trace the musculature of his chest, starting by his collarbone, pressing down in places.  
 “Does this hurt?” She asks, applying gentle pressure to his sternum. He shakes his head.

“This?” She rubs one of his nipples until it stiffens, warm and puckered flesh. Steed makes a quiet, pleased noise in the back of his throat, but shakes his head again.  
 She keeps on with this pattern ‘checking’ his other nipple - giving it a kiss, just in case - then below his ribcage, and above his navel. Her hand next dips below the waist of his trousers, encountering the firm shape of his erection through his briefs. She traces his length through the cotton, Steed groans.

“How about this? Does this hurt?” She raises her brows at him, trying for a look somewhere between innocent concern and coquettish seduction. 

“Doesn’t hurt.” His voice is even, but his dark eyes and the way he presses ever-so-slightly against her hand tell her that he’s affected by the touch. She smiles.

“Still, I think you should let me take care of this. It could lead to... later discomfort.” Her hands slide from his trousers to thumb open the button, pull down the zipper. It is with slow, measured movements that she removes his trousers and briefs. The back of her hand only just grazes his hardness as she does so, making him twitch. 

“Lie down,” she directs him to the bed. It is small, not intended for more than one sleeper, but it will suit their purposes just fine. Steed lies with his back against the pillow and headboard, holding his arms out for her. 

“Emma, your clothes,” Steed pouts - a somewhat unbecoming expression, yet rather adorable on him... though she certainly won’t tell him so.

“Not yet.” Emma climbs onto the bed, settling herself over his thigh, one knee on either side. She caresses his inner thighs, pale skin mottled with the occasional scar, as is the rest of his body. Injuries from past encounters with diabolical masterminds that came too close for comfort... But she pushes that thought away to focus on him, the way his thighs have gone taut under her hands, his penis standing at full hardness. She places a quick kiss to his inner thigh, then wraps her hand around his erection. 

Steed exhales audibly, watching her slow strokes through heavily lidded eyes that fall closed when she puts her mouth on him. Her free hand goes back to rubbing his thigh as she sucks gently, tongue swirling around the tip. She dips her head down to take as much of him as she can, wrapping a hand around the base of his erection to make up for the rest, and starts to move in a rhythm she knows will quickly bring him to the edge. Her hand moves in time with her mouth, and she hears Steed choke off a groan, his whole body tensing. She increases her pace and Steed swears quietly, her name immediately behind the explicative, sending a jolt down Emma’s spine.

Each time she does this for him surprises her. Not because she enjoys it - the fact that she enjoys it - that she enjoys giving him pleasure is no surprise - but by how much it affects her physically. The sounds he makes, the length and width and taste of him arouse her more than she expects, and several times she has been close to orgasm from this act alone. This time is no exception. She feels wetness already soaking the thin cotton of her underwear, and she rubs her thighs together to appease the throbbing between them.

Though tempted to stop and quell her own arousal, Emma waits until Steed is quivering, his breathing ragged and hips moving of their own accord before she pulls away. Steed gasps at the sudden loss. She sits up, hiking up the skirt on her ridiculous nursemaid uniform, pulls off her underwear, and finally slides a hand between her own legs. She feels Steed staring as she presses tight, quick circles on her clitoris, moaning involuntarily. Steed says her name, whether a reminder to be quiet or a request for her to hurry she isn’t sure.

“Emma,” Steed repeats, his voice low and throaty, his eyes dark when she looks up to meet them. He holds his arms out to her again and she obliges, reluctantly pulling her hand from between her thighs and ascending his body to fall into his embrace. His mouth captures hers, kisses hungry and fervent without being greedy or demanding. 

Even through her clothes she feels the heat of his erection pressing against her abdomen, and she aches for him to be inside of her. She reaches down between them to adjust her skirt, maneuver him until he’s pressed against her entrance. Steed hisses, hands flying to her hips, as she takes him into her with a single downward movement of her hips. 

She starts to move a moment later, wasting no time in establishing a hard and fast rhythm. Steed groans against her neck, pressing kisses there, hot and open-mouthed. Emma bites down on her lower lip as she tries to keep from crying out, especially when Steed thrusts up on her downstroke. It is only now that she is focused on being quiet that she becomes aware of all the sounds she makes. She had never considered herself to be particularly vocal in bed, but now she finds herself holding back a noise with nearly every thrust. In spite of her efforts, there are a few sharp gasps and little whimpers she can’t quite manage to stifle. Steed echoes them with soft grunts, low growls deep in his throat. 

“Emma, I--” 

“I know,” she can feel his trembling beginning anew, just as she feels her own muscles start to tense, the motion of her hips growing more frantic. 

She bites down on her tongue, presses her face into the crook of Steed’s neck, desperately trying to keep quiet when the heat of her orgasm takes her. Steed’s fingers press painfully into her hips - she suspects there may be bruises later, but she doesn’t care - holding her against him as he gives a final thrust and follows her into bliss, gasping heavily against her ear. 

“Well, Mr. Steed,” she pants when she comes back to herself, tossing hair away from her face as she raises her head to look up at him, “it seems to me that you’re in perfect health.”

“That’s very reassuring to hear,” he gasps back.

It takes them several minutes to get their breath back. Emma lets her head fall back into the crook of Steed’s neck, inhaling the increasingly familiar scent of him. By the time their breathing has evened out, her eyes have fallen closed and she realizes that, though she is still fully dressed, she could easily fall asleep there and then. Which only makes it all the more disappointing when Steed shifts under her, says:

“I should go.”

Emma sighs. He is right, he cannot stay. They would surely be caught, and besides, the bed isn’t near big enough for both of them. A pity, as she is starting to laying with him for a while afterwards. She stands to let him up, then lies back as she watches him collect his things, cover his impressive body once more. 

"I'll see you in the morning then," he says, setting his bowler back on his head as he steps out the window to go. "Oh, and Mrs. Peel?

"Hm?"

"Maybe see if you can't take one of those uniforms to keep. If it wouldn't be too much trouble."


End file.
